Klance: Death of a Paladin
by Acaer
Summary: Lance and Keith are sent to the Galra Empire together, but only one of them makes it back.


There had been too many Galra soldiers. Too many, and nothing had gone as planned. Too many, and Keith had gotten trapped inside the caves, fighting off so many more than he anticipated. Too many, and Lance had been yelling for him, yelling and yelling while he shot from outside. Too many, and finally Lance had lured them out from the tunnels and into the air. But there were too many, and Lance still couldn't get back to him. Too many, and Keith was lying there alone, breath rasping in his lungs, and blood leaking through his fingers. He was lying there and time was running out. So he did the only thing he could think to do: he told Lance to leave. He told him to come back for him. And of course Lance protested, because how could he? How could he leave him? But still the ragged voice in his helmet spoke the truth: that there was no other way, that the walls were caved in and they couldn't get back inside anyway, that the only way Keith was getting out of there in time was if they got some sort of help. So Lance left, and as he retreated he told the voice in his helmet to keep breathing. He told him he would kill him if he didn't, and that earned a dry chuckle. But it was all too weak, and Lance didn't say anymore because he knew his voice would shake horribly. So he leaned forward and in a flash he was gone, with a few alien ships giving pointless chase as the last sight of his lion's tail disappeared from view. And he swore then that Blue flew faster than she ever had in her life.

He had to get to the other paladins. He had to get to them right now. But they were at the other base, their mission was at the other base, and oh god, he didn't even know if they'd survived. He told himself they had to. They had to. Because Keith needed them.

The ground seemed unbearably cold. Keith gritted his teeth and told himself he would hold on. He had to hold on. Lance was coming for him, and goddamnit, Keith Kogane was not a quitter. But it was hard, breathing was hard, keeping his eyes open was becoming increasingly hard. And it hurt, it hurt a lot. His mind was fuzzy to say the least, but he could tell that it was bad. Not a surprise considering how many Galra bodies lay littered behind him, how many of them had struck home with their swings. It was so dark, and so quiet but for his own gasping breath. Dimly he was aware of a commotion outside, a clawing at the heaps of suffocating rock on every side. He thought perhaps they were coming to finish him off after all, but then he recognized the sounds as familiar. Red.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Lance reached the other paladins. As soon as he got within range he started screaming, hopelessly and hysterically. Shiro was the first to respond. Then Pidge, then Hunk, all three of them asking him what had happened. Lance was flooded with instant, dizzying relief at the fact that they were all fine, a little battered yes, but fine. That was all he needed. Now they had to get out of here, they had to go. Because Keith was still out there. Keith was probably dying. And this was more important than anything Lance had ever known. But somehow he just couldn't tell the others, because the words weren't even coming out right in his own ears. In fact they were hardly words. Lance could hardly breath.

"Lance we got the base, we got it, it's okay." That was Pidge.

"Lance calm down, are you alright? Did you guys make it out safe?" Hunk.

And then there was Shiro, "Lance...where's-"

"Keith," Lance finished. And his breath was a gasp. And he felt as if, suddenly, he was broken.

"Please, please I couldn't get him out...I couldn't get him out, you have to help me! He's hurt bad, you have to help me get him out!"

Keith felt an overwhelming surge of affection for his lion. She must have awoken from where he'd left her when he entered the base, and he knew that she was coming to save him. Save him like she always did. But this time...Keith knew...or at least he suspected, she wouldn't make it. Even as he heard the shifting, splitting rock being moved piece by piece. And suddenly his eyes swam, not because he was afraid, but because it wasn't fair of him, and he could sense the despair coming off his lion in sharp waves. I'm sorry, he wanted to say, I'm sorry. But he couldn't even form the words. He couldn't even take a breath in, and he couldn't let anymore words out. So he thought them instead. He thought them not just for his lion but for his friends too, and for Lance. The blue boy who had been nearly crying when he left. The boy who, for once in his life, had not been able to crack a joke. Of course, nothing had been funny. Dying, he supposed, was not funny. Every part of him ached. His head hurt. Despite all his efforts to stay awake, his vision began to cloud at the edges. He knew what was going to happen, and he knew in that moment, that he could have thought about anything. He could have thought about his family, that which he had never really known, or he could have thought about all the years that now he would never get to see. But he didn't. Keith thought only about the smile of the boy who had hopefully gotten out alive, and wished more than anything that he had actually gotten to say goodbye.

Now they were flying, all of them flying. Lance tried to recount everything as best he could. He tried to tell them where they would find the last paladin when they arrived, but honestly, Lance didn't know. He didn't know how long they'd been gone already, or how long someone could last when they sounded like that. He just didn't know. And he wanted to tear his hair out from not knowing, but that wouldn't help anything so he just flew. Eventually the others stopped asking him questions, because he had nothing else to tell them, and because the fear that gripped him tight was so strong that he could no longer hear them.

Red crashed through the rock with terrifying, deadly determination. Truthfully, she already knew. Already knew that the paladin's heart had stilled. But the lion needed to see, needed to see him, if only for one last time. The rock caved away bit by groaning bit, until gradually, there was nothing left. And then the machine made a sound, a terrible hollow sound of grief, one that perhaps no one had ever even known it was capable of producing. Then it fell to the floor like a great puppet whose strings had been cut, and all at once, everything was silent.

They were close, they were getting so close, and Lance's knees were so weak he didn't think he could stand when they landed. But now he could see it, he could see the base, and he saw the shape of the red lion at its side. He wanted to laugh with relief, because if Keith's lion had come for him it would all be fine. Keith would be safe, they would bring him into the healing pod and everything would be fine. Each of the four paladins quickly touched down, and the air was electric with worry and anticipation. Lance led the way, and without realizing it or meaning to, he was running. It's okay he thought. He's okay. But as he got closer he saw something that made his heart pound in his chest. Something about Red that was...off. He had never seen any of the lions so still like this, so quiet, almost as if whatever had made them run was just, no longer there.

Lance felt cold in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. Dread filled his being. His lungs were about to burst but he ran farther anyway, not even caring if there were still Galra lurking around to take him out. He rounded the hulking metal beast in a sprint, and when he came to the front he stopped so fast that he almost fell straight to the dirt. Because somebody was lying there, right between the two shining paws. Somebody who had been waiting for him. And Lance's breath caught in his throat, because he knew as surely as he had ever known anything in his life, that sometime before he arrived, they had stopped waiting.

He didn't know if he screamed or not. All he knew was that this couldn't be happening. It couldn't. But there was nothing else to assume, and Lance knew it. He could see it too, because the figure was so limp, and the skin was so pale. And Lance couldn't bring himself forward because he didn't want to see the boy's skin like that, when it was anything but warm and alive, and part of a fiery human being that was made of nothing but fight. But of course it was Keith, it was Keith, and he couldn't just leave him like that. He couldnt leave him alone just because he was scared. So he moved forward anyway, and his steps felt like lead. And he stood above the person on the ground and then wished desperately that he hadn't. Because the face before him was so familiar, so unquestionably Keith's, but at the same time the body looked so broken, so tired and weak and defeated, and it wasn't supposed to be like that ever. He was supposed to be invincible. Keith was supposed to be invincible. Not gone. Not empty. Not this. Not a hollow shell of himself. He was supposed to jump up and say that he was fine. But he didn't. He wouldn't. His chest wasn't rising, and his eyes were closed, and he could be sleeping but for the blood. It was dry, and dark, and everywhere, and oh god it was even in his hair. And the sight was so undeniably wrong that it brought Lance to his knees, and he thought of all the times that he'd secretly wanted to touch that hair but couldn't. Couldn't because the sharp eyes and tongue would have accused him immediately. And there would have been questions he couldn't answer. But now there aren't any so he takes a raven strand between his fingers and just holds it. And Keith doesn't say anything because he can't. And Lance curses himself for not touching him sooner, because now it's too late, and it's all wrong, and Keith can't hear him, and there are tears on his face and Lance is pretty sure they're his. And all he can think is this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong. People can't suddenly burn out that way, not people like Keith. It's like the sun disappearing over night, it just doesn't happen. Even if they couldn't have won, Lance always thought they would go down together, not alone, not bleeding out trapped in enemy territory. Not in the dark with no one to tell them they would be alright. Lance suddenly wished he had said more, anything more, because Keith deserved that. Keith deserved someone who could have saved him. But Lance wasn't someone who could have saved him and now it was over. He hadn't come back in time and Keith had died. Died. And for the first time he let the word fully penetrate his mind. And it hurt so bad that right then Lance just wanted to join him. If Keith was dead he wanted to be too. He wanted to be wherever the red boy had gone to, wherever he wasn't small and cold and broken, wherever his eyelashes didn't rest so delicately on his frozen cheeks in a way that made Lance think the world was shattering. And right then he just couldn't take it anymore, everything that he was feeling, the ache that seemed to stab through his chest. It was impossible to feel that much all at once. Maybe that was why it began to pour out of him in a scream. A scream that was so loud and piercing and horrible, a scream that made his ears ring, but at the same time that he couldn't hear at all. Suddenly Hunk's arms were around him, and Lance was scratching maniacally at his hands as he was drug away from Keith, away from the boy who would never move again. And Pidge was bawling in great, thick tears, and wet tracks ran silently along Shiro's cheeks too. Lance thought hazily that he'd never seen Shiro cry before. Then Hunk was all around him, and he couldn't see the body anymore. He was being squeezed so tight it hurt, but he didn't mind it because he felt like otherwise he might just come apart and all his pieces would disappear. The tears came unceasingly and he just let them because he didn't know what to do. He wanted to be angry at Keith for dying, for being some suicidal hero that tried to take on everything at once. But he couldn't. He couldn't because it was Keith, and despite everything he'd ever told him, he could never hate him. He could never hate his temper, or his skills, or the fact that he'd had absolutely no idea what he meant to him. And now Lance would never tell him. Oh god, there were so many things he would never tell him. And now they would swamp his mind forever:

I like your stupid hair mullet.

I don't hate you.

You have pretty eyes, okay?

I like to hear you laugh.

I wanted to take you to meet my family after all this.

Please be careful.

I don't know what I'd do without you.

I love you.

I love you.

And suddenly it was dire that he know.

Lance scrambled away from the others, whose shoulders were still shaking with grief. He imagined their sad eyes upon him as he stumbled forward. They probably thought he was insane. And maybe he was, because he leaned down and whispered into the ear that could not hear him.

I love you Keith Kogane. I love you, you piece of shit Keith Kogane.

And he held the limp shoulders so hard that his fingers hurt, breath so close that he ruffled the black hair, and imagined, for just a minute, that the boy smiled. And he knew that if he could have spoken he would have said only one thing:

I love you too Lance McClain.


End file.
